


haircut

by kaijumama



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Gen, Post-Doomstar Requiem, a vague mention of magnus, a vague mention of skwisgaar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 13:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8626543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaijumama/pseuds/kaijumama
Summary: tokis pride was taken from him, and he vows to make sure it doesnt happen again. `__`





	

the way magnus grabbed at his hair.  
never gentle.  
it was a vulnerability.

toki used to be proud of his hair, or at least, enjoyed it. the soft texture, how it framed his face so well. how shiny it was, and the color, a wonderful brown naturally highlighted with gold. he'd spend a good amount of time on slow days brushing through, choosing the best shampoo, and sometimes playing with accessories like headbands and hats (though he'd never wear them out, dear lord.)

even when he wasn't focused, he would play with a lock between his fingers.  
and sometimes, on sleepy nights with his partner guitarist, skwisgaar would brush his hair for him.

now, with this cruel, desperate man, his hair was a vulnerability.

in the beginning, magnus wasn't so terrible. in fact, he'd compliment toki's hair. sickly sweet words heavy with... something. he'd touch it, too, rough hands pawing. it hurt, and toki complained at first, but he quickly learned how little the man valued his thoughts.

toki shivered, glaring down the sink.

after what felt like a week or two, magnus's feelings became considerably more obvious. the sickly-sweet something was loathing. the slightly rough hands were tugging, now. then became yanking. toki's scalp was constantly sore, and hair was falling out with every grip. his hair... no longer shiny and wonderful and smooth. he never got a chance to groom. during the torment, his glorious mane became a greasy matted mess.

 

toki gripped the scissors in his hand.

he would try to comfort himself, sure. when magnus was away, he and abigail tried (bless her heart, she tried) to make it feel right again. remind himself how proud he used to be, how much time and love he spent...

on what became a leash.  
a weapon.

a vulnerability, toki winced, the words striking him even now.  
he gasped back tears. he flexed his hand, testing the scissors, feeling the blades grind against eachother.

never again, he thought.

never again will someone use my pride against me, he thought.

the wave of emotion crashed down, drowning the poor man in rage.

never again. he grabbed fistfuls of hair and hacked at it with the scissors.

never again. he cut wildly, haphazardly, leaving uneven lines.

never again. the shower of gold and brown hair spread across the floor, down his shirt, and sometimes even stuck to his wet face.

never again.

 

the cold against his neck was paralzying.

toki looked down at his hands. there were scrapes where he'd slipped. there were strands of hair clinging to his forearms.  
he could see his face, red and burning, in the reflection of the scissors.

he howled. some deep guttural emotion from within him, he screamed, regret and terror and anger and humiliation all at once, bursting from the poor man's chest, echoing in the small bathroom. he sobbed, throwing the scissors against the door and wiping the hair out of his face.

 

the next morning, his partner guitarist stared in shock at the mess from the night before, the scissors still reflecting gold and brown.

**Author's Note:**

> GIVE ME THE CRITIQUES :3c i love u


End file.
